This morning marked the end of our journey with our fund raising for Mustard Seed School, but the beginning of a wonderful relationship with Justin and Sister Libby of Loaves and Fishes. Sister Libby lead us on a tour of the school, filled us in about all the projects Loaves and Fishes is involved with for the community and spoke with many a guest of the establishment proclaiming "Pope Francis! Love that name!". Her enthusiasm and love of what she does poured out with each person she interacted with. Her pride in the school and what Loaves and Fishes has done over the past 30 plus years glowed with her winning smile and her generosity of spirit to us.

EMH IS SO HAPPY TO SAY:WE RAISED $300 FOR MUSTARD SEED THANKS TO YOU ALL!!!!Thank you so much to everyone who supported NOT ONLY Dog Sees God but our endeavors to support Mustard Seed with our t-shirts and raffle tickets. Its really amazing to see our efforts extend beyond the play and into such a great program.

WE THANK YOU AND LOOK FORWARD TO SHOWING YOU PICTURES OF US HANDING OVER THE CHECK NEXT WEEK! So the show may not be going up tomorrow night, but the spirit of it goes on.....

By now, you’ve probably heard - - these are not your ordinary cartoon misfits. This is a show that doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not just to be popular. DOG SEES GOD is raw and powerful and dirty. It's easy to get wrapped up in the offense, to be instantly transported back to the insanity of high school through extreme stereotypes that are admittedly cringeworthy - - and laughable. But it's through those often ugly visages, those moments of juvenile humor that a message of tolerance emerges. This has been the challenge in co-producing the show with Elise. Do we attempt to preemptively counter the offense or let the show stand on its own? Ultimately, we feel it does stand on its own. Audiences of all ages have told us they relate to these characters - - their insecurities, their need to be accepted, their longing for love - - and the sometimes painfully familiar ways they are trying to find their place in the world. Shows like this provide necessary dialogical avenues for topics that are often uncomfortable to discuss: bullying, homophobia, fatism, disordered eating, sexuality, violence, even suicide. But sometimes you have to get a little uncomfortable to discover what’s important. See the show. Bring a friend. Talk about it. ~ Peggi Wood, Co-Producer

Read an excerpt from Beethoven's memoir, as written by Declan Gallagher, to be published when he becomes a famous pianist.Note: Mature language and content

Now it’s eleventh grade, or I suppose Junior year, and things haven’t changed. Then came a day which began like every other ordinary, awful day. It was a Friday, and as usual I had sequestered myself in the piano room to play during lunch. It was a while before I noticed C.B. standing in the corner, but when I did notice him my stomach dropped. What could this be about? I put as much distance between our two bodies as possible, and it was then I noticed he had tears running down his cheeks. This revelation softened me, I must admit, and a conversation ensued in which he told me his dog had died recently. This revelation devastated me, and I didn’t hear most of the rest of his diatribe. That sweet, beautiful dog who used to lick my face and always wanted to sit on my lap when we were at C.B.’s house. The dog who, even after all my human friends had shunned me, still opened his mouth and lolled his tongue out at me when we would pass in the neighborhood. One more piece of my childhood, gone. C.B. waxed philosophical for a bit, I told him what he wanted to hear, and as I was making a desperate move to get back to my playing, he grabbed me by the shirt like he was Bogey and I Bacall and gave me my first real kiss. Then he ran out. I was angry. I was shocked. I sort of had a hard-on, but an angry one.

The kiss led me to tracking C.B. down the next night at a party, a situation that did not end entirely well. I’m unsure of what my intent was, showing up there. I knew I was throwing myself into the snake pit, but I either wanted to vilify C.B. for his actions, publicly, or I wanted more. Despite C.B. once again behaving like a complete dunce at the party in a well-intentioned attempt to “fix things”, we ended up sleeping together that night. It took me as much by surprise as I’m sure it did him, but it just felt right. His parents were out of town, and his sister was off canoodling for the night, so he invited me to stay with him. He was gentle, and afterward he held me all night, well into the next morning when he woke me up by shoving a piece of burnt toast in my face. He took me completely by surprise. I am still trying to process it even as I write this, and I doubt that even by the time this is published I won’t have comprehended it. C.B. showed me kindness that no one, not even when I had close friends, ever showed me. It was genuine. He was genuine. It occurs to me now that he may be the great love of my life, even if this is the extent of our dalliance. I cannot imagine what people at school will say. The rest of them don’t even know 90% of it, and hopefully it will stay that way. I wish I could live in a world where I could sit with C.B., and we could talk and laugh and he would hold me like he did last night, but we don’t live in that world. We’re in high school.

Read an excerpt from Beethoven's memoir, as written by Declan Gallagher, to be published when he becomes a famous pianist.

Note: Mature language and content

For the first three and a half years of high school, I shared not a single pleasantry with C.B. He was never the worst of my tormentors, but did appear to glean some vague merriment from it. C.B. never put his hands on me, but he was there with all the rest of them every time I got my “faggot ass” kicked. (Should I have hyphenated “faggot-ass”? I suppose that’s something for the editor to figure out.) We had been close in middle school—actually, ever since we were single digits—and I had always liked C.B. the most out of our group of friends. He was a fool, but there was never any malice to his behavior. He was trying his hardest to please, and as I recall he never did a great job of it. But in that good-hearted failure laid his charm, at least for my part. C.B. was the only other person I knew growing up—amend that, the only person I’ve ever met still to this day—who seemed to share my temperament. I always felt, and still do feel, he could be a great novelist some day. In eighth grade, after years of thinking this, I secretly christened him Charles Bukowski, but only after a party in which he drank so much as to black out and urinate himself. Twice.

Of course, summer before ninth grade, everything changed, as you’ve read in pages past. (Or perhaps you decided to skip that section, in which case I wouldn’t blame you.) Suddenly, I was the outcast, and naively, so stubbornly, I thought, At least C.B. will continue to acknowledge my existence in a positive way. Come the first day of ninth grade, C.B. had suddenly decided to wear a varsity jacket and carry a football under his arm all day, every day, (despite his never having made the proper contact with a football), and the last thing he wanted to do was talk to, let alone even remember he used to be close friends with, a “filthy queer”, or “Daddy’s Boy”. In fact it was C.B. himself who, in tenth grade, decided I was an “ass bandit”, despite my never having “banditted” any asses, though I am not unfamiliar to the concept. Then the beatings commenced. And continued. To be continued....

It's been a while since I wrote in my diary. So I may be a little rusty. Here we go. I only have one night to live. I have rabies. I don't know for sure if my dog bit me. I don't think so, but he was licking my face a few days before his rabies manifested. After looking up rabies on the internet I now know that I have it. I have all the symptoms. I will be dead by tomorrow. I don't know what will happen to me. I might fade into nothingness. I may go back into some lady's giant vagina and live there forever. My body will most likely just be slowly eaten away by maggots. I don't know if it even matters. But I'm scared. And more than that I'm disappointed in the life that I have lived. I'm a coward and a phony. I've allowed people to push me around, tell me who to be, make me feel guilty for who I am. I'm ashamed that I haven't been able to stand up for myself. That being said I'm going to live this last night to the fullest i can. That sounds so cliché. But I think sometimes clichés can run true if you're in a situation (life/death) like mine. Every day I sit outside the music room and listen to Beethoven play his songs. It's kind of been my secret escape from the bullshit life I lead at this school. We haven't been friends in a while. It’s my fault. I haven't really spoken to him in high school. I guess we just fell into different lives. I have always had this vibe about Beethoven ever since we were kids. We would communicate so much through such little actual speaking. It's like we've been able to read each other’s minds. Like kindred spirits. Ugh. God that’s so lame. I don't know if he feels that way. But tomorrow i will be rabid and subsequently put to sleep. Before I die I want to say something to him. Not sure what or how he will react. Maybe apologize. Maybe just catch up. I don't know. I just feel compelled to say something to him. Because listening to him play every day at lunch has gotten me through a lot of bad times over the last three years. Ah. Maybe that's what I’ll tell him. Wish me luck. And Godspeed. I wish I had written in my diary more often because all of a sudden I feel better. Go figure. ~ CB.

I am so glad to have the chance to be Matt (Pig-Pen all grown up), but honestly being cast as Matt was a really big surprise for me that I struggled with. When I read the script I identified with every character except for Matt. Put simply Matt is the bully of the school, a big jerk who likes to throw his power around. One look at me and you wouldn’t usually jump to thinking I’m a bully that is going to beat you up, quite the opposite indeed, I think. I’ve come to realize that that is the beauty of the way that Elise and Eason cast the show. Identity is a big theme of the play, and Matt has just as many battles about that as anyone else. Pig-Pen was a dirty and disgusting boy that didn’t apologize for being that way, he was just happy to be himself. But because of that he constantly got made fun of. We can all identify with wanting to be accepted, and there comes a point where we will change ourselves for it. This play comes in at a number of breaking points. For Matt, he has pushed so hard he has lost, and even hates, his old self. He doesn’t want to lose himself now, and will fight to keep what's important to him. Someone who is willing to do anything, at any cost, is a powder keg waiting to explode.

Brennan has been a true joy, (as have the whole cast) with his fun loving spirit and optimism and enthusiasm. He brings a child like yet totally existential quality to Van that we've fallen in love with. Take a moment to watch his interview and come out to see the show TODAY or TOMORROW!!

TODAY the 16th: 2pm Matinee and 8pm Performances - $15SUNDAY the 17th: 7pm Performance - $152130 L Street at the Geery Theatre, SacramentoWe are holding a raffle each nigh to give away a show t-shirt and wristband so come with some cash to get your raffle on! Proceeds go to benefit Mustard Seed School, a Fishes and Loaves Project we are SO EXCITED TO SUPPORT!!!

WOW!!! Wow! wow.... you'll get that reference to "I do not..." if you saw the show last night. And what a show!!

Being the co-director and producer, I spent more of the week being the producer so seeing the show run last night was quite an awesome thing for me. I was so so happy for the audience reactions and total enjoyment of the show. I heard laughter, saw tears and there was genuine good times in the room last night! Seeing what so many have posted on line last night and today has warmed my heart for all the work these talented actors have put into the show.

We are doing raffles for the show now too! You could win a t-shirt, or a wristband, or a free ticket to come back for the show! $1 at the door and all the proceeds go to our chosen charity: Mustard Seed School, a Fishes and Loaves project.

WE ONLY HAVE 11 PERFORMANCES LEFT NOW. And if you don't want to miss it you should order your tickets now before we sell out again like last night!!!